I SEARCHED around the teacher’s lounge for the remote.
On the counter. In the chairs. Under the stray bags and napkins.
Nope.
I wanted to hear what was going on.
Billows of smoke raced across the screen, a title box under them reading: Atlanta Deviant Ring Discovered, Two Arrested.
I checked the next usual suspect—inside the minifridge.
Bingo.
It was wedged between a brown sack and a plastic container that I’d seen in there for at least two weeks. I probably needed to get rid of that.
The cool button tickled my fingertip as I turned the volume up.
“That’s right, Dan,” the female reporter said. She stood before half a building that looked like Zack’s. Behind her, officers and men in white suits rummaged through the wreckage. “Officers,” she continued, “have been weeding through the debris for nearly six hours. At 2:00 a.m., the UCIS raided the apartment building you see behind me. As the raid began, a deviant squatter set off a series of pipe bombs, injuring several UCIS officers and decimating the building. Two suspects have been arrested. Agent Patricia Bentley, Head of Investigations for the UCIS, says this raid was part of a much larger investigation in the Atlanta area and that as the next few months progress, she expects there to be many more arrests and detainments.”
“Fuckers!” I exclaimed, pounding my fist against the counter. “You fucking fuckers!”
Those bastards had him. If he hadn’t died in the wreckage, they’d arrested him, and he’d be next in line for execution.
Tears welled in my eye. Why him? He wasn’t a bad guy. He was trying to survive and help others. He hadn’t done anything wrong.
It was yet another reminder of how cruel and unjust the world was to our kind.
I sank to my knees, my face shivering as tears rushed from the corner of my eye.
Why does it hurt this much? I hardly knew him.
But I wanted to know him. I wanted to have the chance to get to know him. I knew it was stupid, but I liked him, and some part of me had hoped he would like me. Now I didn’t even have the chance to get to know him.
And that was such a selfish thought! There he was, either lying in the debris from the bomb or in custody, and all I could think about was how it was affecting me. What was wrong with me?
I PULLED the squeegee down particularly slowly. All my work had been slow that day.
What was the point?
My mind flashed back to my time with Zack, at his place. When he’d made me the sandwich. His cute smile. His adorable, messed-up hair. These thoughts haunted me. It’s funny. I’d been so mad at him… so furious, and here I was, thrown into a horrible depression over news of his capture by the UCIS.
Another tear.
There’d been way too many of those. I just hoped that Wahrmer didn’t bug me today. I didn’t know if I’d be able to handle it.
“Hey!”
I turned sharply.
No one. But there was no doubt in my mind that I’d heard someone.
I stepped toward the bushes, perusing them for life.
“Down here!”
I stooped, peering through the branches and leaves.
Two bushes back, a boy was crouched, as if hiding from some very real nearby danger.
It was the kid from the alley. Taylor was his name.
Unable to formulate a question, I blurted out, “Zack?” Surely he knew what had happened to him.
“He’s in trouble.”
“I know. I saw the news.”
“He needs help.”
“What? Didn’t they capture him?”
Taylor shook his head.
“You have to come with me.”
A FILM of black and gray coated Zack’s hair and face.
He lay still. Completely still. Disturbingly still.
Is he breathing?
A dry cough assured me that he was.
Thank God.
I’d convinced Wahrmer that I was too sick to continue working. Then Taylor and I had hurried downtown. During our power walk, Taylor rushed through a scattered, frenzied monologue about what had happened the night before. “He was having a meeting last night. Some of the guys came over who are in charge of shelters. They’ve been trying to figure out how they were gonna get everybody out. There was a knock at the door. Zack called out to see who it was, but nobody answered, so he knew something was up. The big fridge he’s got—he got us to push it to the side, and he had a hole in the wall that led through the building so we could get out.
“Well, he told us to get out, but he stayed behind, because he had to set off some bombs to distract ’em so they wouldn’t catch us leaving. Well, we got out, and were supposed to go our separate ways, but I caught him coming out, and he didn’t look good. He was stumbling. I went back and helped him. He told me where he’d made a secret place in case something like that happened, and I took him there. Then he passed out, and I don’t know where everyone else went, and I didn’t want to go to any place where the UCIS might be, but I remembered you, and Zack had said that you worked at the school, so you were the only one I could go to. Please help him, Luke. He needs help. Tell me you’ll help him.”
We made our way past Zack’s now dilapidated building. Yellow tape and orange cones surrounded the area as blue, black, and white uniforms moved in, out, and around the area, tending to it like ants in a hill.
Taylor led me another block to an old warehouse, its windows broken, its walls covered in graffiti. Taking me down a flight of stairs into a cellar, he undid a shitty wooden latch and opened a hole in the floor. Bits of wood, haphazardly nailed together to make a ladder, led a few feet below to a space the size of a cupboard.
Shafts of light reflected off the concrete walls, casting just enough light for me to see Zack curled up in the corner.
His jeans, like his face and hair, were covered in black and gray. A thick dark goo dripped from his hem, collecting in a puddle on the floor.
Blood?
Grabbing the hem, I pulled back. The denim stuck to his skin so that I had to peel it. Slowly. Firmly.
“Shit!”
Taylor and I leapt back.
“Careful, man,” Zack whined.
A series of coughs exploded from his throat. His head tilted toward me. He winced, revealing his dark eyes.
I knelt beside him.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine,” he said defensively.
He wasn’t fine.
“I need to look at this,” I said, setting my hand at the hem of his blood-soaked pants.
He nodded.
I continued peeling his jeans up, exposing blistered black flesh with specks of red and what looked like glass. It looked like someone had barbequed his leg.
“Gross,” Taylor said.
“They got Darren and Kinley,” Zack moaned.
Fuck. Based on what Darren had told me when he’d suppressed my demon, I figured they weren’t going to go easy on him. Probably gonna punish him for leaving the Assembly. Not to mention that I was shit out of luck dealing with my demon problem. Though if the necklace kept working, maybe it wouldn’t be a big deal.
But I had more important issues to take care of.
“We need to get you to a doctor,” I said.
“Why don’t you just hand me over to the UCIS? ’Cause that’s all they’ll do. No. It’s a—” He coughed again. “—burn. Some glass. And a fucking sprained ankle. Goddamn board gave when I was trying to get out of the other building. I just need to get to my contacts. Make arrangements to meet.”
“The first thing we’re gonna do is clean this leg up. Then we’re gonna get you the fuck out of here.”
“Hell no.”
“Dude, we were just out there. The UCIS is crawling all over this part of town. You don’t think they’re gonna come searching this giant abandoned warehouse at some point?”
“Where am I supposed to go?” His eyes widened, knowing of course, exactly what I had in mind. “No. Fuck no!”
“You don’t have a choice. Me and Taylor will drag you out of here kicking and screaming.”
“I’m not going to the school. I don’t want to get you involved.”
“I’m already involved. You stay here, and you might as well turn yourself in.”
He pouted.
I HEADED to the store to grab antiseptic, bandages, tweezers—everything I thought I needed to help tend to Zack’s severe leg injury. Returning to the warehouse, where Taylor was keeping an eye on him, I did the best I could to fix it up, while Zack played his very important role as backseat nurse. After patching him up, Taylor and I grabbed him by either side and hauled him slowly and cautiously as we made our way to St. Augustine. We dumped him outside my window. I went around, opened the window, and switched places with Taylor. We hoisted Zack in and climbed in.
They were going to spend the night with me. Fortunately, that sounded like all it was going to be. Once I’d gotten Zack to my room, he’d texted some of his guys, and they’d scheduled an emergency meeting for the following evening.
When Henry came around, Taylor and I slipped under the cot. Zack lay facing the wall, with the blanket draped to conceal us. It wasn’t a very big blanket, so we had to coil up. Henry’s inspection was brief, as usual, and as soon as he was gone, Taylor shared the cot with Zack, and I gathered some clothes from my hamper to use as a pillow. It was good enough for me. Reminded me of the night Tom had stayed. The thought made me a little sad. I missed Tom. And these were hardly the circumstances I wanted for Zack to be in my room.
About thirty minutes passed since Henry had come by. I was still awake, dwelling on the sorts of practicalities I was going to have to think about tomorrow. What was I going to do about breakfast? How was I going to get them out of there without Wahrmer noticing? Was Zack going to be able to find someone to help me with my serious demon problem now that Darren was gone?
“Luke,” a voice said
Taylor was crouched beside the cot, his big, sad eyes on me.
“Yeah? What is it? I’m sorry. I know the cot isn’t that comfortable.”
“It’s not that,” he whispered. He peeked his head up, I presumed checking on my patient. Then he came back down. “I’m just sad about Zack.” His voice was even quieter than before.
“Me too,” I whispered at the same volume.
Taylor crawled under the cot.
“Is he gonna be okay?”
“Have you met him? Of course he’s gonna be fine.”
His eyes drifted off, like he was dwelling on something far too weighty for a kid his age.
“Do you think he’s a bad guy?”
“What?” I asked, surprised by his question.
“Mama said God makes bad things happen to bad people. And a lot of bad things happen to him.”
My mind shut down for a moment. Fortunately, Taylor made up for my lag. “When I was bad, she used to tell me that God was gonna do me wrong because I’d done wrong. It happens that way too. This one time I was real mean to this girl in my class. She was talking to another boy, and I was mad at him, so I tore up his picture that he’d drawn in class. And just a few days later, my favorite chicken died. And I just knew it was God punishing me for hurting that boy. Do you think that’s what’s happening with Zack? You think he just done some real bad things?”
“Oh no. Taylor, come here.”
He crawled close to me, lying on his side. I wrapped my arm around him.
“It’s not like that.”
“You sure? Because I was a bad kid. That’s why I ended up a cursed. That’s why all of us ended up curseds, isn’t it?”
I didn’t know how to reason with this line of thinking. I was completely out of my element.
“Sometimes I think I must’ve done something wrong,” Taylor continued. “Something that God’s punishing me for. Is that it? Is he mad at me?”
My hand trembled. I nearly burst into tears, but I knew that wouldn’t have helped Taylor.
He was asking so many of the questions I’d asked at his age… that I still asked now. I couldn’t believe any good deity could be so cruel and malicious as to punish Taylor with this life. How could he be so racked with guilt when he was so young… so full of innocence? Yet a part of me believed something powerful and twisted had done all this to both of us. Maybe not as a punishment, but as some sort of fucked-up amusement for itself.
“No,” I forced out through gritted teeth, mucus collecting in my nostrils. “I don’t think you did anything wrong. And I don’t know too much about God. My parents weren’t exactly the most devout believers. But I’ve heard he can be a pretty cool guy. And I don’t think he had anything to do with this. I mean, haven’t you ever known bad people that good things happened to? I’ve known a lot. They just keep doing terrible things and good things keep happening to them. And I don’t think it’s because God likes bad people. You know what? I think he’s here. I think he’s here, trying to help you through all this, however he can.”
Was it the right thing to say? I didn’t know. Maybe there was a secular approach that would have been better. But at the time, I was just trying to soothe him, and that was all I had.
He curled into my lap, wrapping his arms around me. It reminded me of when Tom and I had bonded in my room. I wrapped my arms around him, just as I had done with Tom.
THAT NIGHT, Zack and I left Taylor to act as a decoy for Henry. Meanwhile, we snuck downtown to a church, St. Lawrence, where Zack was supposed to meet his guys.
I’d seen the church a few times during the day. It was an elaborate stained-glass cathedral, with iron fencing and brick foundations. Its antique look stood out sharply amid the far more modern-looking university that surrounded it on either side.
After slipping through a back door that must’ve been kept unlocked for our entrance, Zack led me through a back hall till we came into the main part of the church.
Streetlamps outlined three row of pews. A stained-glass window of the passions lined the far wall. I recognized them from a very similar mural in the church on campus. In the dark with the orange streetlamp background, only the oranges, yellows, and reds were distinguishable.
A V of smoke emerged from the middle row of pews. Beside it, black slacks crossed over the top of the second pew from the front.
“Desecrate much?” Zack said as we stepped out of the hall.
The slacks lifted off the pew and dropped to the seat. A head popped up. Dark, ratty hair crept out of a black beanie, falling to a bearded chin.
A cigarette dipped from the guy’s mouth, smoke oozing from its tip.
A trembling hand, partially concealed by the end of a black sleeve, pulled it from his lips.
“Holy shit, dude.”
He bounced up, a cluster of papers flapping in his other hand as he skipped over the pew in front of him.
“I was freaking the fuck out! That shit was ridiculous. Those UCIS bastards don’t fuck around.”
As he approached, he threw me a quick, suspicious glare.
“Who the fuck is this?”
“My friend, Luke. Luke, this is Godsford.”
Godsford’s glare didn’t let up.
“The one that saved my ass,” Zack stressed.
“Oh, sorry,” Godsford said, his look softening. “Thanks for being there for my buddy, man.”
He reached out to shake, but he reached for my nub. Realizing his mistake, he slipped his hand back, caressing it against his hip.
“You got somewhere I can lay down till Landon gets here?” Zack asked. “The walk kinda got me.”
“Yup.”
Godsford took us back through the hall.
“Jess isn’t gonna make it. He’s securing the supply. He’s the one who knows the priest.”
“Client?”
“Yeah, but not in the way you think. Anyway, he’s scattering it around town, so the UCIS can’t get it all at once.”
“Dude, have you been using?” Zack asked.
Godsford tossed a wide-eyed glance back at Zack. “The UCIS just busted our asses, arrested two guys that have enough info to blow this whole operation to shit, and you want to know if I’m wired? What the fuck do you think? How else would I have gotten to all those shelters today? Coffee? Fuck that. Anyway, the shelters are freaked, but it’s got ’em packing and getting ready for the big move. Landon’s been all over the new location. But he says we got options now. This coverage has been shitty for us in Atlanta, but it’s got us backup in a few other cities. We have some options that we need to go over. Dallas is looking promising. Evidently, there are guys in Fresno who are willing to help, but who the fuck wants to live in Fresno? Am I right?”
“What’s the point of having a meeting when you’re like this?”
“I’m sorry that I might actually be able to think now.”
Godsford led us into a room with half a dozen rectangular tables scattered around. Several chairs surrounded each table. On the wall, a whiteboard had a cross diagram drawn in red marker and some notes about confirmation. It was obviously some sort of classroom.
Godsford keyed at his cellphone. “Go through that door,” he said. “There’s a nursery. You can chill there. Landon just texted. He’ll just be a few.”
“Okay, cool.”
I helped Zack through a side door into a smaller room.
Stuffed animals were packed in a corner next to a bookshelf filled with kid’s Bibles. On the adjacent wall, a platform created a ministage. A few metal chairs formed a circle on it. Behind them, hanging on the wall, was a cartoon backdrop of a bright, sunny day.
In another corner, a few mats were stacked against the wall. I threw one down and laid Zack on it.
“And you said you weren’t interested in this life,” Zack said. “See what you’re missing? This celebrity treatment. Being waited on hand and foot by servants.”
“You need anything?” I asked, kneeling beside him.
He smiled. I wasn’t sure why.
“I’m gonna see if I can find some water for you,” I said, bouncing to my feet.
I felt warm fingers around my wrist.
“Hey,” Zack said.
I stopped and turned back and to him.
He sat up, his dark eyes shimmering. “Thank you.”
“I owed you one,” I said with a shrug.
“No, you didn’t. You already got me back.”
“If it wasn’t for you, I’d be possessed by a demon, so I think you win.”
His eyes turned serious. “About that…. With Darren gone….”
“I know. I figured. Doesn’t sound like there’s gonna be much chance of me getting this thing out of me.”
“I’ll find someone who can help.”
It was a nice sentiment, but it didn’t seem promising.
He smirked, a seeming attempt at lightening the mood. “I’m sorry if I put you at risk in all this.”
“I put myself at risk.”
His eyes sparkled as luminous clear moisture rushed across them. He swallowed nearly as hard as the first time we’d met, when he’d downed those pieces of his peanut butter sandwich.
Is something wrong?
“I really misjudged you,” he said.
“What?”
“That day I asked you to help me, I should have been straight with you. It’s just… when you’ve been doing this for a while, it’s hard to know who to trust—who’s not gonna rat you out once they know what’s really up. You put a lot of trust in me… trust that I didn’t have for you. I felt like crap about it as it was, and then you found out and I just….”
His jaw clenched. His nostril flared. He looked like he was pissed.
“I felt like such a terrible person for making you feel so betrayed. For making someone as good as you feel like you’d been duped. When I think back about the whole thing, if I’d been in your shoes, I’m not sure I would have been so forgiving.”
“As I recall, I wasn’t all that eager to forgive.”
“But you did, and I’m not sure I deserved that.”
“Zack, you’ve more than made up for it. If I hadn’t known you, I wouldn’t have had anyone to turn to. That thing… I can’t even imagine what it would have done. If I’d even still be alive.”
His eyes fixed on mine, the luminous fluid in them sparkling like distant stars. “Luke….”
He pressed his lips together, as if he was stopping himself from saying anything else. His mouth opened again. He took a breath, like he was trying to figure out what to say next.
As he hesitated, I took in his beauty, his sincerity, his appreciation. If that was all I could have of Zack, I wanted to savor it for as long as I could.
My mind conjured up a sweet fantasy where he told me that he loved me… that he wanted to be with me. I imagined him taking me into his arms and warming my face and my body in his passionate embrace. Impossible as I knew these fantasies were, I relished a moment where I could pretend they were possible—that somehow they could be true.
Zack swallowed again. He took another breath before saying, “You deserve all the happiness in the world. I hope you know that.”
His words were clear about only one thing: that the happiness he hoped for me didn’t involve him. It was a cruel letdown from my fantasy, but a severe shock to my brain, which wasn’t used to compliments, especially compliments from someone that I was so infatuated with.
My face burned in a wave of heat as I blushed.
It was too much for me. I had to get out of there.
“I’m gonna go find that water,” I said. I pulled my hand free of his grip and headed out the door.
That was stupid. He’d offered such a nice compliment. I should have at least said “Thank you.” Now, he’d think I was an asshole. Well, I’d done all this, so maybe not an asshole, but at least someone with shit manners.
I closed the nursery door.
Something tugged my shirt collar.
A force threw me against the wall. Another guy stood before me, so close I could see thin strands of facial hair impaling pussy pimples.
His hair was buzzed. A clutter of thin hairs crept between his eyebrows, making them appear to be one. He wore a red-and-blue long-sleeved flannel shirt tucked into a pair of jeans that slightly bulged at his waist. He leaned on a wooden crutch.
“You got one in you?” he asked, his eyebrow dipping in the middle. It wasn’t a question. It was an accusation.
I assumed this was the Landon that Zack and Godsford had been waiting for. He must’ve heard Zack and me.
“What the fuck?” Godsford asked, hopping out of one of the chairs and heading over.
“Let go of me,” I said, instinctively wiggling out of Landon’s grip. He clawed at me, reaching for my shoulder, but as I ducked to slip out of his hold, his fingers scratched across my face, pulling at my patch strap till it snapped off.
It fell to the floor.
“Oh God! Look at it!” Landon cried.
I swirled around, hoping to keep Godsford from seeing my face.
I caught my reflection in the glass of a framed painting on the wall.
There it was. That gnarly eye.
No! No, no, no.
The memories, the millions of times I’d tried to avoid that sight—they all hit me at once. I hurled myself into the corner, covering either side of my face with my arms.
“You fucking freak!”
A freak. That’s what I was.
I sobbed, my forehead wedged between the walls.
“Listen, you little fucker. You need to— Hey! What the—”
What?
I turned, keeping my arm over my bad eye.
Zack had a hand around Landon’s throat. The other pinned Landon’s shoulder to the wall.
“You shut your fucking mouth,” he said. He was quiet. Frighteningly quiet.
“He’s gonna get us all killed!” Landon exclaimed.
“And you’re gonna get yourself killed in just a minute.”
Landon didn’t resist Zack’s grip. I guessed he knew better.
“I think I’m just gonna go.” My words were so soft I didn’t even know if anyone would hear them.
I headed for the door, still shielding my face.
“Don’t you fucking leave!” Zack exclaimed.
His words were intense, filled with rage. I froze.
“That guy is the reason you’re walking around right now, so why don’t you show a little fucking gratitude?”
“Yeah, well, I’d like to stay walking around, and if he’s infected—”
“Darren suppressed it so we could get help.”
“That means it was too strong for Darren. Do we know any healers stronger than him? Huh? This guy’s a ticking time bomb. Am I the only one who this is scaring the shit out of?”
“Zack,” Godsford said. “He has a point. Without Darren, I don’t know if we have the resources to help him.”
Here it was again. That familiar feeling. Not only did regulars think I was a threat—curseds did too. And for very good reason. I hadn’t felt anything since Darren had put the necklace on me, but I couldn’t be sure that would last.
“I’m gonna get him help,” Zack snapped. “That’s not up for discussion.” He leaned in to Landon. “And if I see you so much as toss him a disapproving glare, I will tear your scrotum open and rip your insides out through it. And I will do it in the slowest way that you can possibly imagine.”
Landon’s eyes were fixed on Zack’s, as if trying to see how serious his threat was.
“Do you want to be responsible if we all get killed?”
“You’re really testing my patience,” Zack whispered.
“Landon,” Godsford said. “If he’s not a threat now, there’s no reason for us to believe he will be. Clearly, whatever Darren did to him is working. We can see if there’s help for him when we get to sanctuary. But this stays in this room. Got it?”
“Got it?” Zack stressed to Landon.
“Got it.”
“HEY, YOU.”
I opened my eye to a familiar, pleasant sight. Zack hovered over me.
After his and Landon’s fight, I’d slipped back into the nursery, where I’d slept for a few hours. The past few days had been exhausting. I just needed some good sleep.
Zack stretched out beside me. I started to get up. He grabbed my arm.
“You don’t have to go anywhere.”
I lay back down, and he lay in front of me, gazing into my eye.
“We got some good leads. Should be able to get out of here in a few days.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah. Gonna be a lot of work. But I’ll definitely find out about a way to help you. I’ll send word back or… something.”
Word back. It was a reminder that he was leaving without me. I believed he would find help… at least try to find help for my infection, but I didn’t like the thought that I was never going to see him again. Now that Tom wasn’t even talking to me, he was really the only friend I had.
“Thanks,” I said. “For everything.”
“Everything?”
“The whole keeping me from being possessed by a demon. Standing up for me.”
“Shut up. Anybody would have done that.”
“You know that’s not true.”
Most would have reacted like Landon. They would have turned me in to the UCIS. Wanted me executed. Wanted me on one of those stakes. This was my life. Worrying about ending up on a stake. Stressed as Tom might be, he didn’t have it like Zack and me. Sure, he lived his life in fear… in constant paranoia about being discovered. But it wasn’t the same as being constantly denied the privileges of a normal life the way Zack and I were.
“It’d be so much easier if we were like them,” I said.
“I can’t disagree. Not really an option, though.”
“I know. But don’t you ever think about it?”
He didn’t seem to know what I was talking about.
“At St. Augustine’s,” I continued, “it’s all these guys my age, and they’re running around, not giving a shit about anything. It’s like they don’t even know about all the shit that goes on in the world. I can’t tell if they just don’t give a shit or if they just don’t want to talk about it. I mean, they’re playing sports, doing plays, going to dances. All this shit that’s so stupid and doesn’t even matter.”
I choked up.
“I know,” Zack said. “You wish they’d take it all more seriously.”
I shook my head. “That’s what I’m supposed to think, isn’t it? But it’s not. Sometimes I just wish that I could act like none of it mattered. Like the trivial things were the most important. I’ve never been to a dance. Never been asked to dance.”
I teared up, but after all I’d been through with Zack, I didn’t care if he saw me.
“It’s stupid, isn’t it? Oh, there’s this dumb dance tomorrow, and I get so mad when I see the posters. It just pisses me the fuck off. I just want to know… why don’t I get to dance? Why won’t they let me dance? It’s dumb, right? That of all the injustices that a cursed is faced with on a day-to-day basis, that that’s the thing that just keeps running through my mind. Pissing me off. I don’t mind the work. Or the yelling. Or the shitty food. I just want something. A tiny moment where none of it matters.
“I mean, even like this, always afraid that tomorrow is the day that you’re gonna get caught, don’t you just want to sometimes know that for just a little while, you don’t have to worry? That you have permission to be stupid and goofy and not think about anything important?”
“I think we all want that,” he replied, “but that’s not the life we got.”
His gaze sank to the floor. He was thinking about something serious. Something dark. His past? His experience with the infected who’d marked him? That had to be what it was. I knew that look. It was the look in Tom’s eyes when he’d told me about that dark night. It was the look I surely had when I talked about my experience.
“Do you mind if I ask…? Never mind. That was rude. I’m sorry.”
Our stories were personal. It was one thing when Tom had opened up to me. It was another for me trespass into Zack’s history. It wasn’t any of my business, but I wanted to know his story. I wanted to feel his pain. To help him carry that burden, as I’d done with Tom.
“No, no,” he insisted. “It’s fine.”
He hesitated. Like he was reconsidering.
“We were all at Granny and Papaw’s. We were supposed to have dinner over there. It’s what we did on Thursdays. Jason, my brother, had been gone too long. Hunting. He was never late for dinner, and we were having chicken pot pie, and God knows Jason wasn’t one to leave any leftovers.
“We were starting to get worried. Dad and Papaw were getting pissed. Mama and Granny were worried, but I think they were just trying to calm ’em down. Didn’t want them to get so pissed they slapped him around when he got back. Not that he wouldn’t have deserved it if nothing was wrong.
“Well, another hour went by… and then another hour… and it just flipped. Dad and Papaw were trying to calm Mama and Granny down. Then we heard the garage door opening. That was pretty normal. We usually went in there to dump off our boots and get cleaned up before going in the house.
“Papaw and Dad were the first out the door. They were set on giving him hell. But Mama and Grammy were just glad to know that he was okay. At first, we heard Papaw and Dad yelling. I was waiting to hear Jason defend himself. I mean, if he was missing chicken pot pie, I figured something must’ve happened.
“And then we heard the shots. And Daddy and Papaw had stopped yelling. Granny just stared at the garage door. Like she didn’t know what to think. Mama giggled. Dad and Papaw were jokers, and they were always playing with her, getting her riled up. I think she figured they were doing something like that. At least, for a moment, she thought that.
“Any rate, Jason came stumbling in with his gun. Now Mama and Granny were worried. Not because of the gun. They were used to us hauling guns all around the house. It’s the country. Not a big deal. It was the look in Jason’s eyes. Cold, frozen. Not like him. They just sat there, completely still. No one moved. Then Jason raised that gun, and Mama grabbed me, tellin’ me to run. She shoved me in the master bedroom.
“I don’t know what I was thinking. I just hid in the closet. It was all I could think to do. I was a kid, and that was my fucking brother. What the fuck was I supposed to think? Well, after a few shots, I heard footsteps outside the closet. At the back of the closet, Papaw kept a few of his knives on Granny’s safe, where she stashed things that she thought were their valuables. I grabbed it, and startled as I was, I knew how to survive. I knew where you fucking shot a deer, so I knew where to stab that asshole that’d just killed Mama, Dad, Granny, and Papaw. I didn’t know what it was, but it wasn’t my brother. Jason never would’ve done that.
“Soon as that door opened, I was right out there, slit that thing right into his jugular, and just kept on at him. Slashing, screaming, shouting, causing a fuss. He’d dropped the gun, but he was still groaning and fighting. I kept going even when he was laying there, still.”
“The darkness, or so they call it. I watched it seep out of his eyes and descend through the floor.”
Zack’s eyes fixed on the mat. They didn’t move. Just stared off, as if he could still see the darkness.
I PUSHED my window open and gripped on to the sill, preparing to hoist myself up.
A hand reached out. It was too long to be Taylor’s.
Henry? Wahrmer?
A face moved into the streetlight. It was Tom’s soap-carved face.
His hair appeared orange in the light. His lips curled down at the ends, pouting.
I didn’t know what to think. I was surprised to see him. And while I was upset that he hadn’t bothered to talk to me after our little drunken make-out session, I understood. Clearly, there were some things he hadn’t worked through and maybe wasn’t ready to deal with.
“Hey,” he said.
A little face and big ears appeared beside his.
“He freaked me the fuck out,” Taylor whispered. “I thought he was the night guard. I nearly bolted.”
“Yeah,” Tom said, his eyebrows squishing together. “Was a little confused about that too. Kinda wasn’t expecting a kid to be in your bed.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had a kid in that bed,” I said. I arched my brow, hoping to convey my judgment and irritation.
Taylor’s head jerked about, his gaze flashing between us. His face moved back, disappearing into the darkness.
“Need a lift?” Tom asked.
“I got it.”
It would’ve been nice to have accepted his gesture, because with only one hand, it wasn’t the easiest task to crawl into my room. I awkwardly slipped in and stood beside him.
His eyes were fixed outside like he was still looking at me out there.
“I was just really—”
“Yeah, yeah. Really drunk. I know.”
Silence. It was the sort of silence that I remembered being so awkward that first day when I’d brought him back to my room.
I wondered what Taylor thought about this.
“I’m going to the dance with Deanna,” Tom finally said.
Was that supposed to make it less awkward?
That’s just what I needed. Another reminder about that fucking dance.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. I was gonna ask Rachel, but she’s going with my bud Mike. Guess I didn’t hop on that like I should have.”
“Well,” I said, “at least you get a—”
I was gonna say “blow job out of it,” but as I remembered that Taylor was right behind me, I sealed my lips.
“I hope you have a good time,” I said.
“I do like talking to you.”
I felt like I should have said I liked talking to him too, but I wasn’t going to. He didn’t deserve to hear that. It was true, but after what a dick he’d been, I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. I wasn’t going to be that desperate guy who needed him just because I needed someone… even though that was the truth.
“Anyway, I just wanted to come by and say I was sorry. That’s all. So I guess I should just go.”
His gaze flashed over me like he was checking to see the look on my face.
Was he hoping for a response? I didn’t know what to say. I was tired. I wanted to go to bed. And all I could think about was how Zack was going to be leaving soon, and I’d never get to see him again.
Tom headed for the door. I followed. He stopped, his hand grazing the handle.
“I’d like to come by and talk to you again sometime.”
“I’d like that too,” I said, finally giving in. Shitty as he’d been, he was my only friend, and I wasn’t going to lose that. Not if I could help it.
He smirked. The smirk thinned out.
“But you know, that shit. I really was just drunk. Shit just happens.”
Warmth and pressure filled my cheeks.
I doubted he was being honest. Yes, he’d been drunk, but I didn’t imagine he would have come all the way here and made out with me if there wasn’t a part of him that was interested in doing that with guys. But to some extent, I did believe that he had made a mistake doing it with me. He was vulnerable, and certainly no person in their right frame of mind would ever intend to make out with me.
I wouldn’t make out with me, so why should I blame him?
The pressure from my cheeks moved behind my eye. I was going to start crying. It wasn’t about Tom not wanting me. It was about no one wanting me. It was about Zack not wanting me. It was about the fact that he could just so easily pick up and leave. Of course he could. We hardly knew each other. So I’d helped him out of a few jams. He’d done the same for me. And unlike Tom, I didn’t have any reason to believe he was gay. He wasn’t. No. The cruel universe that I lived in would have gladly strung him out in front of me, teasing me with him, before ripping him away and reminding me that no matter what, I couldn’t have him.
Gay or straight, it didn’t matter. I was a monster. I knew he was just being nice when he told me that I wasn’t disgusting or hideous. He was being a good friend, but that was surely the extent of it.
Tom was still standing at the door. He needed to go. Now. I was about to cry, and I didn’t want him thinking it had anything to do with him. Then he really wouldn’t talk to me.
“Anyway,” he said. “I’ll swing by sometime.”
I nodded. I knew I wouldn’t be able to say anything without my voice cracking.